Page 323 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

My other half.

I was grateful I’d memorized the feel of her—because a second later she shoved me away, face drawn in a scowl as she reared back and landed a punishing fist to my gut.

Pain exploded through my ribs as the air whooshed from my lungs.

I staggered, bracing myself on the patio sectional, wheezing, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” she shouted, indignant. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You. Right now. At this moment.”

She advanced, stomping like some furious, ginger Tinkerbell from hell, and I threw up a hand—either in defense or in plea, I wasn’t sure.

“You shoved me through!”

“To save your life,” I ground out, trying to breathe past the ache. My throat burned. “You’re welcome.”

“You loathsome, reckless, self-sacrificing, beautiful jackass.”

A low laugh rumbled in my chest despite the pain as I took in the fire-bright fury blazing across her face. “Wait—you’re mad that I saved you?”

Her scowl deepened.

Right. That logic clearly made perfect sense.

This time when she aimed for my shoulder, I twisted. Her open palm glanced off bare skin.

“You damned me to that,” she growled. “What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

I lifted both hands, palms out, in surrender.

She advanced again, and I stumbled backward over something that looked suspiciously like a bumblebee planter.

“How could you do that to me, Cyrus?” Her voice cracked. “Do you have any idea how horrific it is to feel helpless when—when—when—” She broke off, sobbing.

Color flared in her cheeks as tears threatened to spill.

Jesus.

I’d still been under the impression she was more likely to kill me herself than give a shit. But seeing her break nearly shattered me in turn. Her pain splintered me and welded me back together all at once.

Agony I wanted to soothe.

Acceptance I needed down to the marrow.

Her left hook was harder to dodge. My bare heel caught on the patio rug as I twisted, balance still shit. Before I could recover, her palms slammed into my chest, tears streaking down her cheeks.

“I watched you die, asshole.” Shove. “You made me watch you fight for your fucking life and there was nothing I could do—” Shove. “I thought Tessa failed. I thought they wouldn’t make it in time and you—” Her voice cracked. Another shove, harder now. “You died, Cyrus.”

I caught her wrists on the next push, locking them in place as she jerked against me, wild with grief.

“I watched the light leave your eyes. I watched your body seize, watched you fall⁠—”

“Easy, chérie,” I murmured, the bridge of my nose stinging as I watched her cheeks grow slick with grief.

Few things had ever brought me to tears. But this woman…

My Freya.